


Happy

by gentlesouthernsun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlesouthernsun/pseuds/gentlesouthernsun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His end begins with her career. Their end begins with the smell of lavender and finishes with the sight of a pair of shockingly pink lacy knickers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy

_And he said, “I’ve come to hate your heart,_  
‘Cause it’s like the rolling sea  
Restless, hungry, and only cruel to me”

-       _“Frozen Heart”, Smoke Fairies_

* * *

 

They were happy.

He was a successful Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, and she was well on her way to becoming Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They had a decently sized flat in a nice part of Wizarding London, a cat, and a few friends who would stop round for drinks whenever they could _(There's a lot of red and black and brown and blonde and sometimes even pink around)._ When they were home at the same time, they talked and laughed and reminisced, and sometimes, they would wake up in the mornings with such lovely glows and smiles that they didn’t get out of bed until well past lunch-time.

They were happy. 

There is a proverb among Muggles and Wizards alike that “All good things must come to an end.” As this little axiom says, no matter how lovely, beautiful, or perfect things are, they always end, whether with a whimper or a bang. Such was the case with them. 

But they were happy.

* * *

Until, of course, everything came crashing down. It began with the scent of lavender perfume on a jumper as she unpacked his trunk, and ended with the scent of lavender on their sheets and a shockingly pink pair of lacy knickers stowed under the bed.

He denied it continuously, until she screamed and cried and had broken enough wedding china _('That was my great-aunt's!' he shouts, and she throws it at his head)_ that he told her she was too frigid, too ambitious, and too busy to love him like he needed.

She punched him in the nose.

He went to his mother’s house and was promptly shoved out the door after he had explained why he was bleeding and covered in canary feathers.

She stayed at home and cried.

He tried various family members and friend’s homes, Apparating door to door until he went to the home of his paramour.

She changed the wards and Flooed to a manor in Wiltshire, where she was greeted with a sympathetic smile, a bottle of Firewhiskey, and a glass _(She cries and cries and when she passes out she's carried back to the flat she won't call home much longer)._

He slept soundly. 

She had to be helped back.

The next morning she stayed home from work with a massive hangover. 

He didn’t get out of bed.

She was pulled from her bed and forced to eat by a hurricane of red and black and white and brown and green and blue and even a bit of pink before being smothered in the arms of aforementioned hurricane.

* * *

She was happy.

She had been promoted to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after a rather interesting scandal involving the former Head and a woman who wore lavender perfume _(She declines to comment, but laughs about it later that evening)_. She had a cat. She had moved to a manor in Wiltshire where she was greeted every afternoon by a grin. On her days off she lounges in the library, feet propped on the grin’s lap. Sometimes they don’t leave the bed.

She was happy.

* * *

He was miserable.

Despite his early potential, he was slowly becoming a failure. After being passed over for the England National team _('Again', he thinks to himself, kicking his locker with such force he's almost positive his foot breaks)_ he quickly retired, spending all his savings on a woman who wore lavender perfume and then on women who left mascara and lipstick stains. He lived in a cramped run-down flat in Knockturn Alley. He got increasingly drunk and the only time he ate well was when the Sunday Dinner leftovers were dropped unceremoniously at his front door. Sometimes the rats got to it first.

He was miserable.

* * *

Their fates only ever crossed once more.

 A simple note and a small vial _(it had the faintest scent of lavender about it, it might have been a perfume bottle once, and she wishes that it had stayed that way)_ had been found beside him, and she cried and clutched the unassuming parchment to her chest while comforting arms  _(she owes these arms so little and so much and she never wants to leave)_ held her tightly.

* * *

_I hope you’re happy now._

**Author's Note:**

> This originally was posted on Fanfiction, and several reviewers had some concerns. Firstly - Ron commits suicide. His life has gotten progressively worse, and unfortunately, he sees no other option. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly - concerning the "relationship" between Hermione and Draco. No, she did not cheat on Ron. Yes, she did go to Malfoy Manor. In my headcanons for this story, the prejudices have not completely disappeared, but there is an amiable relationship between Hermione and Draco that blossoms into something more after Ron's betrayal. This story is about Ron and Hermione, their deteriorating relationship, and the effects of infidelity. I reiterate - Draco Malfoy is not a main character, and if you managed to pick up on that, bless you.


End file.
